First dream in a while that has been note worthy.
A familiar setting... one from a dream many months ago. In the dream from before the location was in the country past horses and down a slope that made it feel like the Shire. It was a cozy but decadent home of an elderly man. A "wise old man" that I went to deliver something to and ended up talking to, and looking around admiring his things.
In last night's dream I started inside the house. There were many women from church(past and present)gathered there for something.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted my friend Jeffrey, who has been dead for several years now. Many of my friends were talking to her, some times in groups and sometimes one on one. I stayed away. The dream did not take place in the past... It was present day, and even in my sleep, I knew she was dead. (In life, she was one of my dearest friends and mentors... a kindred spirit... one I could go to with ANY thing.)
The event that we were all gathered for let out and I walked out the side door and on to the gravel drive. Jeffrey walked right up beside me and said, "Why have you been avoiding me?" I don't remember what I said, but it was something about not knowing "what" she was. She spoke to me with kind words and basically said not to ignore her. I woke up shortly after singing "The Warrior" by Patty Smyth from the 80s.
Jeffrey once told me all of my "issues" would be solved if I just realized how much God loves me; If I could see in myself, the value that He sees in me.
This little life lesson comes up again and again for me. I have a hard time feeling "loved... and worth the effort."
Anyway... that's just ONE piece of advice she gave me, but I know that she was referring to it when she said not to ignore her. Me wondering "what" she was speaks of me still doubting the source of the thoughts in my head that tell me to take "self" time. Ya know, if you think being a mom means doing everything for everybody else... and then you get bashed for not doing a very good job of that, you some times start to think that a voice telling you to take some "me time" must be the enemy, cause that seems selfish. blah blah blah.
The wise old man was not in his house, but it's clear to me that Jeffrey was the "wise" person in this dream that everyone was getting advice from.
So all that leaves is the song:
... I looked up the lyrics.
"You run, run, runaway
It's your heart that you betray
Feeding on your hungry eyes
I bet you're not so civilized
Well isn't love primitive?
A wild gift that you wanna give
Break out of captivity
And follow me stereo jungle child
Love is the kill
Your heart's still wild
Shooting at the walls of heartache
Bang, bang!
I am the warrior
Well I am the warrior
And heart to heart you'll win
If you survive the warrior, the warrior
You talk, talk, talk to me
Your eyes touch me physically
Stay with me we'll take the night
As passion takes another bite, oh
Who's the hunter, who's the game?
I feel the beat call your name
I hold you close in victory
I don't wanna tame your animal style
You won't be caged in the call of the wild
Shooting at the walls of heartache
Bang, bang!
I am the warrior
Well I am the warrior
And heart to heart you'll win
If you survive the warrior, the warrior
I am the warrior
I'm not sure if you can see anything in it... cause it was only meant for me... but I see a message.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Movies, Art, Fashion, and a Machine Gun
Last night's dream started as a movie...
I was John Cusack and I was with a young Dan Aykroyd in a two-seater plane. We were laughing and talking about girls and sex.
The view changed and I was out of the movie and sitting in the theater with my husband. We got up to leave and I mentioned to him that I had forgotten to go see Laurelin's show. (A friend of mine just had her first solo art show up at a gallery, and I did forget to go "opening" night.) So I walked over with him to a gymnasium where the show was. (It was the gym from my HS.) Her art was everywhere. It was like a life time of art; hundreds of pieces. I started on the wall to my right where there was a nautical theme going on. Perfect paintings of boats and wharfs (not her "norm"). I was commenting on one when her fiance David told me there was another wing that held her crafts. (She is a knitter and crafter as well... when the mood strikes.) So I walked over to that wing and looked behind glass at dolls and jewelry and buttons and other crafty things she had made (again, not her "norm".)
Then the scene changed and I was going to visit my friend Ramin in New York. I got to his apartment and started working on patterns on his floor. I was waiting for him to get home, but in the mean time I had taken at least 8 articles of clothing and was tracing them on to dotted pattern paper. They were all ugly clothes, very matronly. The idea was that I was going to try to get a job back at the St. John's design house(where Ramin and I worked after we graduated college). He came home and asked what I was doing. He looked over the clothes and my work and told me I was doing it all wrong. He said the clothes were hideous, and that my pattern tracing skills were terrible. "Don't you remember anything from school?" he asked. He then stormed off. The scene changed again and I was in the bed of a truck with all of the pattern making equipment and my luggage. Ramin was walking away from me down the NY street. I jumped out of the truck and went to him begging him to help me. We stood by a car and talked for a brief minute and then I saw a man jump in the truck bed and start to load up my stuff. I ran back to stop him, but he had a machine gun and pointed it at my face. I still yelled at him, saying, "That's my stuff, how dare you take it!" Ramin yelled my name, "Are you crazy?" he asked. Then I grabbed the machine gun that was at my face and turned it to face the man. Ramin again said, "Are you crazy? If you shoot him you'll be the one in trouble." But I shot at his arm anyway. Nothing... just air. So I aimed the gun at the yard beside me and shot again... just air. Then I reprimanded the man in the truck, "You were going to steal my stuff with an unloaded weapon?" I was still yelling at him when the dog woke me up.
This dream has loads of guilt in it.
Things that are bothering me that I keep replaying in my head.
That I still watch ill-humored movies, that I forgot Laurelin's show, that I screwed up the pattern for my daughter's Halloween costume cause I don't remember how to make sleeves. (I haven't done them since college.) It even has a bit from the book I'm reading called "Son of Hamas" where the machine guns he bought didn't work. The chapters in the book since that moment have filled me with guilt because I relate to the Israeli side, and they have kept the writer of the book in a prison torturing him for the past few chapters. (A true story... good book.)
The truck bed I'm sure has to do with me driving my husband's truck the other day to pick up my son's bike. (I don't drive it often... it's too big.)
Ramin is always put in my dreams when there is advice about my fashion career, because he is a person I will listen to. I think he stayed in the dream for the machine gun part because he is originally from Iran... which fits the setting of my book, at least in that neck of the world.
I think that the part about Laurelin's art not being "her's", was about myself as well. I used her in the dream because she is one artist I know that has a very common theme through her work so it's easy to see when it's not coming from 'her'. Most likely this was a reminder to me to be true to myself... which was also emphasized by the horrible clothes I was tracing... They were SO not me. :)
I was John Cusack and I was with a young Dan Aykroyd in a two-seater plane. We were laughing and talking about girls and sex.
The view changed and I was out of the movie and sitting in the theater with my husband. We got up to leave and I mentioned to him that I had forgotten to go see Laurelin's show. (A friend of mine just had her first solo art show up at a gallery, and I did forget to go "opening" night.) So I walked over with him to a gymnasium where the show was. (It was the gym from my HS.) Her art was everywhere. It was like a life time of art; hundreds of pieces. I started on the wall to my right where there was a nautical theme going on. Perfect paintings of boats and wharfs (not her "norm"). I was commenting on one when her fiance David told me there was another wing that held her crafts. (She is a knitter and crafter as well... when the mood strikes.) So I walked over to that wing and looked behind glass at dolls and jewelry and buttons and other crafty things she had made (again, not her "norm".)
Then the scene changed and I was going to visit my friend Ramin in New York. I got to his apartment and started working on patterns on his floor. I was waiting for him to get home, but in the mean time I had taken at least 8 articles of clothing and was tracing them on to dotted pattern paper. They were all ugly clothes, very matronly. The idea was that I was going to try to get a job back at the St. John's design house(where Ramin and I worked after we graduated college). He came home and asked what I was doing. He looked over the clothes and my work and told me I was doing it all wrong. He said the clothes were hideous, and that my pattern tracing skills were terrible. "Don't you remember anything from school?" he asked. He then stormed off. The scene changed again and I was in the bed of a truck with all of the pattern making equipment and my luggage. Ramin was walking away from me down the NY street. I jumped out of the truck and went to him begging him to help me. We stood by a car and talked for a brief minute and then I saw a man jump in the truck bed and start to load up my stuff. I ran back to stop him, but he had a machine gun and pointed it at my face. I still yelled at him, saying, "That's my stuff, how dare you take it!" Ramin yelled my name, "Are you crazy?" he asked. Then I grabbed the machine gun that was at my face and turned it to face the man. Ramin again said, "Are you crazy? If you shoot him you'll be the one in trouble." But I shot at his arm anyway. Nothing... just air. So I aimed the gun at the yard beside me and shot again... just air. Then I reprimanded the man in the truck, "You were going to steal my stuff with an unloaded weapon?" I was still yelling at him when the dog woke me up.
This dream has loads of guilt in it.
Things that are bothering me that I keep replaying in my head.
That I still watch ill-humored movies, that I forgot Laurelin's show, that I screwed up the pattern for my daughter's Halloween costume cause I don't remember how to make sleeves. (I haven't done them since college.) It even has a bit from the book I'm reading called "Son of Hamas" where the machine guns he bought didn't work. The chapters in the book since that moment have filled me with guilt because I relate to the Israeli side, and they have kept the writer of the book in a prison torturing him for the past few chapters. (A true story... good book.)
The truck bed I'm sure has to do with me driving my husband's truck the other day to pick up my son's bike. (I don't drive it often... it's too big.)
Ramin is always put in my dreams when there is advice about my fashion career, because he is a person I will listen to. I think he stayed in the dream for the machine gun part because he is originally from Iran... which fits the setting of my book, at least in that neck of the world.
I think that the part about Laurelin's art not being "her's", was about myself as well. I used her in the dream because she is one artist I know that has a very common theme through her work so it's easy to see when it's not coming from 'her'. Most likely this was a reminder to me to be true to myself... which was also emphasized by the horrible clothes I was tracing... They were SO not me. :)
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Reunion at a Water Park
I was texting my old friend Paul last night shortly before bed time... telling him that facebook doesn't give me "enough" of him. It's all so surface driven (which is good for the internet,) but I wanted to know more about where he was at in life.
When I was a teenager I often went out with guys just because they liked me. Paul was one of those guys that I never knew a thing about until we dated. It's a terrible method of dating and I preach against it to my daughter all the time, but that's what I did back then. If I found out they were "bad", or even if I knew they were beforehand, I hoped I would make them better. People call that missionary dating; I was queen of that method. Nothing ever happened to the boys I dated to make them better while I was in their life, but I have had multiple old boy friends tell me all these years later that I impacted them greatly. Few with stories of God, but most with stories of self-worth. I'm happy about that.
Well... last night I dreamed that I met Paul again at a reunion. The reunion was in a pool at a water park. All kinds of people from Aviano AFB HS were there, all swimming.
It was a deep pool with rocks on the sides and rivers trailing from it in a couple directions. The official reunion was only at that pool, though there were slides and other attractions all around. I was not aware of the other surroundings at the start of the dream... only the big pool with all my classmates.
I saw Paul and swam over to him. I floated my body up to the surface while we said our hellos and I took off something. Not sure if I had been fully dressed and was now in a swimsuit, or if I took off part of my swimsuit. I embraced Paul and then closed my eyes. He held me in a head lock and we talked. Only my head was above water now, with Paul's arm acting like a life preserver keeping me afloat. There was some "inappropriate" touching, and I asked if he should be doing that with all these people around. He laughed and said, "we're not there anymore", "I wouldn't do that in front of anyone." I opened my eyes and pulled away to find that we were now further down one of the lazy rivers that flowed from the pool. We continued down the river and on to multiple water slides, laughing and having a great time. After the third or fourth slide we went to get back into the lazy river but the entry stairs were over crowded with small children. Paul asked my what my intentions were. I explained to him that I had no desire to cheat on my husband and that I was very happy in my marriage. He was happy with that news. We stared at the obstacle of kids in front of us on the stairs and decided to try to jump over them. Right as I jumped the scene changed and I was no longer in the river or with Paul. I was now with my friends Shawn Kuver and the Rhodes sisters (Erin and Michelle), also from HS in Aviano. We were walking through a cruise ship type of hallway with red velvety carpets. There were trays of food and things nearby like we were at the back end of a restaurant. There was a piano sitting in the hallway and Shawn sat down to play, (well, goof off on it at least). One of my old youth group leaders, Jill, walked up to us and gave me a disapproving look. I took her queue and walked away.
Then I woke up.
Interesting dream, yes?
Water and pools etc. for me usually are about refreshing, cleansing, relaxing things. There was never a "bad" moment in the dream... even the inappropriate touch didn't feel "wrong". I think that with most dreams of sexual stuff the symbolism is more about intimacy than actual sex. (Of course, I could have been inputting my evening with my husband into part of my dream.) Anyway, I think that the dream speaks of having a private "deeper level" conversation with Paul (away from facebook... which is basically a reunion in itself), enjoying that, and both of us viewing our kids as obstacles that block that relaxing experience, the carefree life of when we knew each other.
As for the cruise ship part of the dream... I think it speaks of mischief. Shawn was most definitely one of my most troublesome friends. Especially given that Jill (a conscience symbol) snapped me out of it... I think that it was just a warning, still related to Paul... to not cause mischief.
When I was a teenager I often went out with guys just because they liked me. Paul was one of those guys that I never knew a thing about until we dated. It's a terrible method of dating and I preach against it to my daughter all the time, but that's what I did back then. If I found out they were "bad", or even if I knew they were beforehand, I hoped I would make them better. People call that missionary dating; I was queen of that method. Nothing ever happened to the boys I dated to make them better while I was in their life, but I have had multiple old boy friends tell me all these years later that I impacted them greatly. Few with stories of God, but most with stories of self-worth. I'm happy about that.
Well... last night I dreamed that I met Paul again at a reunion. The reunion was in a pool at a water park. All kinds of people from Aviano AFB HS were there, all swimming.
It was a deep pool with rocks on the sides and rivers trailing from it in a couple directions. The official reunion was only at that pool, though there were slides and other attractions all around. I was not aware of the other surroundings at the start of the dream... only the big pool with all my classmates.
I saw Paul and swam over to him. I floated my body up to the surface while we said our hellos and I took off something. Not sure if I had been fully dressed and was now in a swimsuit, or if I took off part of my swimsuit. I embraced Paul and then closed my eyes. He held me in a head lock and we talked. Only my head was above water now, with Paul's arm acting like a life preserver keeping me afloat. There was some "inappropriate" touching, and I asked if he should be doing that with all these people around. He laughed and said, "we're not there anymore", "I wouldn't do that in front of anyone." I opened my eyes and pulled away to find that we were now further down one of the lazy rivers that flowed from the pool. We continued down the river and on to multiple water slides, laughing and having a great time. After the third or fourth slide we went to get back into the lazy river but the entry stairs were over crowded with small children. Paul asked my what my intentions were. I explained to him that I had no desire to cheat on my husband and that I was very happy in my marriage. He was happy with that news. We stared at the obstacle of kids in front of us on the stairs and decided to try to jump over them. Right as I jumped the scene changed and I was no longer in the river or with Paul. I was now with my friends Shawn Kuver and the Rhodes sisters (Erin and Michelle), also from HS in Aviano. We were walking through a cruise ship type of hallway with red velvety carpets. There were trays of food and things nearby like we were at the back end of a restaurant. There was a piano sitting in the hallway and Shawn sat down to play, (well, goof off on it at least). One of my old youth group leaders, Jill, walked up to us and gave me a disapproving look. I took her queue and walked away.
Then I woke up.
Interesting dream, yes?
Water and pools etc. for me usually are about refreshing, cleansing, relaxing things. There was never a "bad" moment in the dream... even the inappropriate touch didn't feel "wrong". I think that with most dreams of sexual stuff the symbolism is more about intimacy than actual sex. (Of course, I could have been inputting my evening with my husband into part of my dream.) Anyway, I think that the dream speaks of having a private "deeper level" conversation with Paul (away from facebook... which is basically a reunion in itself), enjoying that, and both of us viewing our kids as obstacles that block that relaxing experience, the carefree life of when we knew each other.
As for the cruise ship part of the dream... I think it speaks of mischief. Shawn was most definitely one of my most troublesome friends. Especially given that Jill (a conscience symbol) snapped me out of it... I think that it was just a warning, still related to Paul... to not cause mischief.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Uninvited
Lots of crazy dreams lately...
No time to write them all.
Last night, one that sticks out was...
I was at a ball... all fancy and everything but I wasn't supposed to be there. I had snuck in with a friend of mine (can't remember who now). It was like a movie... I'm not even sure if I was myself. Somehow we talked our way into getting to stay but the lady in charge of security kept a close eye on us. We saw her walk away for a moment and went over to the sign in table that was unmanned, and grabbed a stack of invites. (The idea was that when you came in the door, you handed in your invitation as a pass to get in.) We stuffed the invitations into new cards and ran out of the door with them. The lady was looking around for us and noticed that we were gone and sent guards looking for us. In the parking lot (which was gravel on a big front lawn) we met up with some friends and crammed into a van. I sat on the passenger side floor board in front of a boy who was on the football team. There was one boy for each girl...
We hadn't pulled out of the driveway yet when my dog woke me up.
Yesterday I had a dream about a reoccurring futuristic airport. Checking in... going up elevators. This is the 4th dream I've had about that airport.
No time to write them all.
Last night, one that sticks out was...
I was at a ball... all fancy and everything but I wasn't supposed to be there. I had snuck in with a friend of mine (can't remember who now). It was like a movie... I'm not even sure if I was myself. Somehow we talked our way into getting to stay but the lady in charge of security kept a close eye on us. We saw her walk away for a moment and went over to the sign in table that was unmanned, and grabbed a stack of invites. (The idea was that when you came in the door, you handed in your invitation as a pass to get in.) We stuffed the invitations into new cards and ran out of the door with them. The lady was looking around for us and noticed that we were gone and sent guards looking for us. In the parking lot (which was gravel on a big front lawn) we met up with some friends and crammed into a van. I sat on the passenger side floor board in front of a boy who was on the football team. There was one boy for each girl...
We hadn't pulled out of the driveway yet when my dog woke me up.
Yesterday I had a dream about a reoccurring futuristic airport. Checking in... going up elevators. This is the 4th dream I've had about that airport.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
White Water, and A Year Book Photo Shoot
So last night before 3:00 I had a strange dream of going from rock to rock in a white body of water. The rocks were all white and the water was milky. It was all white, and I was in the water, but didn't want to swim in it, instead I was trying to stay with at least one limb on a rock, like it was dangerous.
My dog Knuckles came in at 3:00 and woke me up.
After a brief potty break I went back to sleep and dreamed of high school. I was with my sister and two old boyfriends. My sister was with Donnie, and I was with Jay. We were all posing in various places for pictures for the year book. Mr. Leander (my old English teacher, and teacher in charge of Year book) was taking the pictures.
We were at a stadium of sorts, sometimes on the grass and sometimes on the bleachers. I walked behind Jay and felt his bare back. "You're back is great, and you have soft skin just like Michael." I said. (Speaking of my husband.) Jay's head was shaved (like now, not like in HS).
Half way through the picture taking, while we were at the top of the amphitheater in the middle of a picture of my sister and I, I got a zit on my upper lip on the left side. It hurt and was huge. I tried to pose in a way that it didn't show, but the first chance I got I ran down to the rest room. True to form, the line was out the door. I thought about it for a minute and rationalized that since I didn't need to pee I could skip the line and just go straight for the mirrors. I did. There were vanity stations in the middle of a large sterile room. The stations were made of stainless steel and the mirrors were behind cabinet doors on the stations. There was even a small round close up mirror at the station I chose. I popped the zit and it immediately subsided and I was able to go back with out worrying about it at all.
Then my alarm rang.
Pieces of the dream like the close up mirror and even the zit are things from yesterday. The zit being reminiscent of a picture I saw of my nephew with a swollen lip from an allergic reaction to Motrin. The mirror being from my son's bathroom, that I was telling him to use to brush his teeth so that he would do a better job.
Even the photo shoot was reminiscent of a shoot I recently did with one of my swell sister ladies for our portrait club. (My sister in the dream, could have been symbolically a "sister".)
Anyway... I have no idea about Donnie and Jay and Mr. Leander, or the settings.
Or the white water and rocks dream for that matter.
The white water dream actually intrigues me quite a bit more. I'll have to think about that one.
My dog Knuckles came in at 3:00 and woke me up.
After a brief potty break I went back to sleep and dreamed of high school. I was with my sister and two old boyfriends. My sister was with Donnie, and I was with Jay. We were all posing in various places for pictures for the year book. Mr. Leander (my old English teacher, and teacher in charge of Year book) was taking the pictures.
We were at a stadium of sorts, sometimes on the grass and sometimes on the bleachers. I walked behind Jay and felt his bare back. "You're back is great, and you have soft skin just like Michael." I said. (Speaking of my husband.) Jay's head was shaved (like now, not like in HS).
Half way through the picture taking, while we were at the top of the amphitheater in the middle of a picture of my sister and I, I got a zit on my upper lip on the left side. It hurt and was huge. I tried to pose in a way that it didn't show, but the first chance I got I ran down to the rest room. True to form, the line was out the door. I thought about it for a minute and rationalized that since I didn't need to pee I could skip the line and just go straight for the mirrors. I did. There were vanity stations in the middle of a large sterile room. The stations were made of stainless steel and the mirrors were behind cabinet doors on the stations. There was even a small round close up mirror at the station I chose. I popped the zit and it immediately subsided and I was able to go back with out worrying about it at all.
Then my alarm rang.
Pieces of the dream like the close up mirror and even the zit are things from yesterday. The zit being reminiscent of a picture I saw of my nephew with a swollen lip from an allergic reaction to Motrin. The mirror being from my son's bathroom, that I was telling him to use to brush his teeth so that he would do a better job.
Even the photo shoot was reminiscent of a shoot I recently did with one of my swell sister ladies for our portrait club. (My sister in the dream, could have been symbolically a "sister".)
Anyway... I have no idea about Donnie and Jay and Mr. Leander, or the settings.
Or the white water and rocks dream for that matter.
The white water dream actually intrigues me quite a bit more. I'll have to think about that one.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Memories of Tucker
Last night I had a dream of my puppy. It was nice to see him again.
I won't write about the dream though...
Instead of replaying the trauma of his death in my mind, I am going to write out all of my memories of Tucker.
The story of Tucker actually starts 5 or so years ago. My wonderful friend Karen had the very best dog I ever met. I wanted one of her puppies so badly. But years went by and still no puppies. Being the impatient person I am, I went ahead and looked for a different puppy on my own. That's when I found Knuckles. Knuckles will be three this November. But this spring something wonderful happened... Peanut finally had puppies! All the puppies were spoken for, but by some miracle (in my mind) they fell through, and Karen posted on facebook that they were up for adoption. I bolted over the first chance I got!
When I arrived at their house I plopped myself down on the cement in back and Tucker came running. The biggest and toughest of the bunch. He barreled over his brother and sister in play, and I knew, if any one was going to be able to handle Knuckles... this one would be it!
Home I went, with the "bully" of the litter. My heart full of joy and completion.
I took him home to a lonely house. Both kids were gone for the summer (my son to camp, and my daughter at Nana and Papa's.) I was aching for someone to mother. Tucker met all of those needs.
It took Knuckles about a week to call Tucker "brother". There was entertaining jealousy for me to watch all day. Knuckles claimed my lap, sometimes by sitting right on top of Tucker. Tucker always took it like a trooper and simply picked a new spot to lay down.
If you leaned down to give him a kiss, you would most likely end up with a bite on the nose. His other favorite biting destinations were your ears, and the hem of your clothes. Flowing skirts and towels were his favorite.
Tucker was a natural at mousing. Only once did we find one in the back yard, but he caught it like a pro, and I had to pry it out of his clenched teeth. Knuckles loves to chase mice out in the field near by. Tucker was only allowed once... the stickers that matted his hair that day led us to just carry him through the field from then on. But one day a mouse shot out from the field and hid under a car. Knuckles couldn't reach of course, so I let Tucker down and two seconds later he emerged with a tiny tail sticking out of his mouth. I praised him as I pried open his jaws again, this time with much less resistance. He was so proud.
In our early days of walking he made it about half a mile then would flop beneath a tree for a rest. Recently though, he kept up with Knuckles for all of our three mile walk. On every walk he would look back at the house during the first block or two, dragging a little; then on our way home, once he realized that we were close, he would speed up and pull the whole way home. This was always amusing to me cause it's the exact opposite of what Knuckles does. Knuckles is always much more lively in the front end of the walk, then drags once we come within a few blocks of home on the way back.
Tucker was always the last one to bed at night. We'd tuck him in with Savannah, then a few minutes later we'd hear the jingle of his collar making his way to our room. He'd lay on the bathroom floor waiting for me to get out of the shower... then tug at the towel while I dried off.
Tucker's wake up time was 6:30 on the dot. The jingle of his collar would get closer and closer to my side of the bed, then a little whimper would accompany tiny scratches on the bed frame. "Pick me up." I'd lift him on to the bed and he'd bite my ear.
Tucker loved his brother Knuckles! He loved to jump up and bite his jaws, and his ears when he could reach. He learned everything from Knuckles... How to pee like a big boy, how to stay in the front yard and not run away, how to sit for a treat... we were just working on laying down, shaking hands, and kissing on command.
Tucker loved bully sticks, and would often try to trade his small one for Knuckles' big one. Knuckles, being a bit of a push over when it came to Tucker, would give his up and you'd see Tucker dragging a bully stick as long as himself around the yard.
One evening when we were tucking my son in bed, Tucker went under the bed and drug out an old bully stick of Knuckles' that he had hid there. We took it away from him, and he went back under and came out with a bone... He had found Knuckles' stash. (We would have never known.) He found another one (semi) buried in the back yard one day while we were swimming. He was a good little treasure finder.
On a few different occasions we would go back to his birth house for a visit. Knuckles came with us a couple times and Tucker showed him off to his family. It was so cute to see three little mops jumping on a great big "mean" dog.
Knuckles grew up real fast because of Tucker. Tucker took the spot of "puppy" and Knuckles instantly matured himself to responsible big brother. He was very protective (after the jealousy was over). When we wanted Tucker to come and he wasn't coming, Knuckles would get up and come to us... making Tucker follow him. Knuckles would alert us if there was a "mess" we needed to see, or if Tucker had something he wasn't suppose to have. It was so cute. Knuckles would even let Tucker have his food if Tucker asked for it... which led to me putting Knuckles' food up higher.
Tucker loved car rides. (I've been told that he was quite scared of the car before... so it must have been another one of Knuckles' teachings.) Tucker would run to the car door whenever he thought you were leaving. After bible study, when my ladies would leave he would attempt to get in each car as I said good bye. He loved to take the kids to school in the morning, and pick them up in the afternoon.
At the dog park all the owners would comment on his bravery and how much he liked the big dogs.
And that's all I'm going to say about that... cause that just made me cry.
I was talking to my dad this morning and he was talking about how his views on animals in "heaven" had changed. He was reminding me how big the new Jerusalem's measurements are, and saying what if the New Earth is expanded just as the New Jerusalem is, and surely there would be room for all the animals that we have loved. I really like that thought.
Tucker... I miss you... But I hope and pray to see you again on the other side.
I won't write about the dream though...
Instead of replaying the trauma of his death in my mind, I am going to write out all of my memories of Tucker.
The story of Tucker actually starts 5 or so years ago. My wonderful friend Karen had the very best dog I ever met. I wanted one of her puppies so badly. But years went by and still no puppies. Being the impatient person I am, I went ahead and looked for a different puppy on my own. That's when I found Knuckles. Knuckles will be three this November. But this spring something wonderful happened... Peanut finally had puppies! All the puppies were spoken for, but by some miracle (in my mind) they fell through, and Karen posted on facebook that they were up for adoption. I bolted over the first chance I got!
When I arrived at their house I plopped myself down on the cement in back and Tucker came running. The biggest and toughest of the bunch. He barreled over his brother and sister in play, and I knew, if any one was going to be able to handle Knuckles... this one would be it!
Home I went, with the "bully" of the litter. My heart full of joy and completion.
I took him home to a lonely house. Both kids were gone for the summer (my son to camp, and my daughter at Nana and Papa's.) I was aching for someone to mother. Tucker met all of those needs.
It took Knuckles about a week to call Tucker "brother". There was entertaining jealousy for me to watch all day. Knuckles claimed my lap, sometimes by sitting right on top of Tucker. Tucker always took it like a trooper and simply picked a new spot to lay down.
If you leaned down to give him a kiss, you would most likely end up with a bite on the nose. His other favorite biting destinations were your ears, and the hem of your clothes. Flowing skirts and towels were his favorite.
Tucker was a natural at mousing. Only once did we find one in the back yard, but he caught it like a pro, and I had to pry it out of his clenched teeth. Knuckles loves to chase mice out in the field near by. Tucker was only allowed once... the stickers that matted his hair that day led us to just carry him through the field from then on. But one day a mouse shot out from the field and hid under a car. Knuckles couldn't reach of course, so I let Tucker down and two seconds later he emerged with a tiny tail sticking out of his mouth. I praised him as I pried open his jaws again, this time with much less resistance. He was so proud.
In our early days of walking he made it about half a mile then would flop beneath a tree for a rest. Recently though, he kept up with Knuckles for all of our three mile walk. On every walk he would look back at the house during the first block or two, dragging a little; then on our way home, once he realized that we were close, he would speed up and pull the whole way home. This was always amusing to me cause it's the exact opposite of what Knuckles does. Knuckles is always much more lively in the front end of the walk, then drags once we come within a few blocks of home on the way back.
Tucker was always the last one to bed at night. We'd tuck him in with Savannah, then a few minutes later we'd hear the jingle of his collar making his way to our room. He'd lay on the bathroom floor waiting for me to get out of the shower... then tug at the towel while I dried off.
Tucker's wake up time was 6:30 on the dot. The jingle of his collar would get closer and closer to my side of the bed, then a little whimper would accompany tiny scratches on the bed frame. "Pick me up." I'd lift him on to the bed and he'd bite my ear.
Tucker loved his brother Knuckles! He loved to jump up and bite his jaws, and his ears when he could reach. He learned everything from Knuckles... How to pee like a big boy, how to stay in the front yard and not run away, how to sit for a treat... we were just working on laying down, shaking hands, and kissing on command.
Tucker loved bully sticks, and would often try to trade his small one for Knuckles' big one. Knuckles, being a bit of a push over when it came to Tucker, would give his up and you'd see Tucker dragging a bully stick as long as himself around the yard.
One evening when we were tucking my son in bed, Tucker went under the bed and drug out an old bully stick of Knuckles' that he had hid there. We took it away from him, and he went back under and came out with a bone... He had found Knuckles' stash. (We would have never known.) He found another one (semi) buried in the back yard one day while we were swimming. He was a good little treasure finder.
On a few different occasions we would go back to his birth house for a visit. Knuckles came with us a couple times and Tucker showed him off to his family. It was so cute to see three little mops jumping on a great big "mean" dog.
Knuckles grew up real fast because of Tucker. Tucker took the spot of "puppy" and Knuckles instantly matured himself to responsible big brother. He was very protective (after the jealousy was over). When we wanted Tucker to come and he wasn't coming, Knuckles would get up and come to us... making Tucker follow him. Knuckles would alert us if there was a "mess" we needed to see, or if Tucker had something he wasn't suppose to have. It was so cute. Knuckles would even let Tucker have his food if Tucker asked for it... which led to me putting Knuckles' food up higher.
Tucker loved car rides. (I've been told that he was quite scared of the car before... so it must have been another one of Knuckles' teachings.) Tucker would run to the car door whenever he thought you were leaving. After bible study, when my ladies would leave he would attempt to get in each car as I said good bye. He loved to take the kids to school in the morning, and pick them up in the afternoon.
At the dog park all the owners would comment on his bravery and how much he liked the big dogs.
And that's all I'm going to say about that... cause that just made me cry.
I was talking to my dad this morning and he was talking about how his views on animals in "heaven" had changed. He was reminding me how big the new Jerusalem's measurements are, and saying what if the New Earth is expanded just as the New Jerusalem is, and surely there would be room for all the animals that we have loved. I really like that thought.
Tucker... I miss you... But I hope and pray to see you again on the other side.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Swiss Airport Confusion
Sorry for the gap in posts. I have been dreaming... just some have been about other friends who may not want those dreams shared.
Last night's dream, however, was just about my daughter and me.
We drove to an airport in Switzerland and went inside trying to find our way to the terminal.
The room we went into first was a salon. There were very snooty women working there and no one would help us. Finally I started walking out muttering to myself about the service. One of the ladies then said, "I will help you in a moment." I was already half way out the door, so we just kept on walking.
Once out into the foyer we saw an elevator and for some reason knew that the terminal was up a few floors, so we got in.
There was a Japanese business man in the elevator as well. We pushed a button and the glass elevator went up very quickly and then started to make a circle around a section of the foyer, also very quickly... like a kiddy-ride at a fair.
We realized this was not going to get us anywhere.
Once the elevator 'landed' we got out and went to an information desk area.
As we were waiting for our turn a voice over the loud speaker said, "Flights ____ and _____ for Denver and ______, now boarding.
I didn't know if our flight went through one of those places, so I started to panic and told my daughter to start gathering our things, that we would run over there.
As I looked down to grab our suit cases I saw that there was only one small suitcase and the rest were all art supplies. The art supplies were very unorganized and in small bags or cases. Like one bag full of paints, my tackle box of paints, a stack of sketch pads and paper, plastic grocery bags of brushes and fabric, chalks, etc. It was overwhelming. I tried to pick it all up but was having a very hard time.
I got frustrated with my daughter for not helping.
Then it was our turn at the information counter.
I went up there and the lady started speaking to me in another language. (We were in Switzerland after all.) I then asked her, in Italian, how to get to the 'train station'. Which I said incorrectly... "Dove è la stazione del traino?" But really I should have been saying "Dove è l'aeroporto". Oh well. Anyway, she then said, in English, that she didn't speak Italian. So in an Italian accent, I spoke to her in broken English. (So silly.)
When I started to think that we were going to miss our flight I looked around and noticed that there was a very fancy mall behind the foyer area. I told my daughter that if we stayed we could go shopping. She was not amused. She just wanted to leave. Then she said, "Mom, I don't need any more clothes, and neither do you." I concurred, but said, "Well, maybe we could just get one outfit for fun."
Then I woke up.
This one seems pretty straight forward in many ways.
i had a conversation with my husband last night about feeling overwhelmed and not knowing which art project to do next, which bible study, etc. So that speaks clearly about the disorganized bags etc.
My daughter has often expressed an interest in living in Switzerland. (She's been before, and loved it.) The only overseas place I've ever lived is Italy, which is why I reverted to that language. We are flying to Denver at Thanksgiving, to spend time with family friends in Manitou Springs. (So there's that reference... even as it being a non-final destination.)
I think to elevator and all the confusion is just about my lack of direction. My daughter being involved in all of it is probably just because I spent my evening with her driving her to dance classes. We talked about our passions and goals etc.
Last night's dream, however, was just about my daughter and me.
We drove to an airport in Switzerland and went inside trying to find our way to the terminal.
The room we went into first was a salon. There were very snooty women working there and no one would help us. Finally I started walking out muttering to myself about the service. One of the ladies then said, "I will help you in a moment." I was already half way out the door, so we just kept on walking.
Once out into the foyer we saw an elevator and for some reason knew that the terminal was up a few floors, so we got in.
There was a Japanese business man in the elevator as well. We pushed a button and the glass elevator went up very quickly and then started to make a circle around a section of the foyer, also very quickly... like a kiddy-ride at a fair.
We realized this was not going to get us anywhere.
Once the elevator 'landed' we got out and went to an information desk area.
As we were waiting for our turn a voice over the loud speaker said, "Flights ____ and _____ for Denver and ______, now boarding.
I didn't know if our flight went through one of those places, so I started to panic and told my daughter to start gathering our things, that we would run over there.
As I looked down to grab our suit cases I saw that there was only one small suitcase and the rest were all art supplies. The art supplies were very unorganized and in small bags or cases. Like one bag full of paints, my tackle box of paints, a stack of sketch pads and paper, plastic grocery bags of brushes and fabric, chalks, etc. It was overwhelming. I tried to pick it all up but was having a very hard time.
I got frustrated with my daughter for not helping.
Then it was our turn at the information counter.
I went up there and the lady started speaking to me in another language. (We were in Switzerland after all.) I then asked her, in Italian, how to get to the 'train station'. Which I said incorrectly... "Dove è la stazione del traino?" But really I should have been saying "Dove è l'aeroporto". Oh well. Anyway, she then said, in English, that she didn't speak Italian. So in an Italian accent, I spoke to her in broken English. (So silly.)
When I started to think that we were going to miss our flight I looked around and noticed that there was a very fancy mall behind the foyer area. I told my daughter that if we stayed we could go shopping. She was not amused. She just wanted to leave. Then she said, "Mom, I don't need any more clothes, and neither do you." I concurred, but said, "Well, maybe we could just get one outfit for fun."
Then I woke up.
This one seems pretty straight forward in many ways.
i had a conversation with my husband last night about feeling overwhelmed and not knowing which art project to do next, which bible study, etc. So that speaks clearly about the disorganized bags etc.
My daughter has often expressed an interest in living in Switzerland. (She's been before, and loved it.) The only overseas place I've ever lived is Italy, which is why I reverted to that language. We are flying to Denver at Thanksgiving, to spend time with family friends in Manitou Springs. (So there's that reference... even as it being a non-final destination.)
I think to elevator and all the confusion is just about my lack of direction. My daughter being involved in all of it is probably just because I spent my evening with her driving her to dance classes. We talked about our passions and goals etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)